Daily scribble in Kannada
Like a tree that loses a branch,
you too will break,
under storms unseen,
under words unkind.
Yet the tree does not mourn its limb,
nor bends to stitch what’s gone—
it feels the sun upon the wound,
and quietly begins again.
Let your hurt fall to the soil,
let it feed your roots instead of fears.
Grow new dreams from what once bled,
and stretch toward the light that calls you near.
For life never asks you to be whole again—
only alive, wiser, and willing to bloom.
Some things unfold in whispers,
not for the hurried ear—
they bloom in the hush
where doubt and wonder meet.
The unseen hand moves quietly,
painting cause behind the veil,
each turn, each tear, each tremor—
a lesson sealed in grace.
Blurred eyes see loss and chance,
open hearts see light disguised—
for every ache, a seed is sown,
for every end, an unseen dawn.
So wait, not with fear, but faith—
for reason is not to be found,
it reveals itself in stillness—
when the heart remembers to see.
They rush, just as we once ran,
Chasing dreams without a plan.
Eyes bright, yet blind to cost,
Hearts half-found and half-lost.
I watch them stumble, proud and bold,
Through stories we’ve already told.
Different toys, new screens, same ache —
The hurried steps that hearts can’t take.
We too had built our fragile throne,
In worlds of “mine” and “me alone.”
Till love knocked softly, time replied —
And ego bowed where care had cried.
Now I see their worlds unfold,
With wiser eyes, yet hands grown old.
I wish they’d learn before the fall,
That giving doesn’t make you small.
For selfish minds can cloud the light,
And love is lost when clutched too tight.
So I whisper prayers into the air —
May they find “we” before despair.
And when their storms begin to cease,
May they too find their home in peace.
The sky is same, the winds just turn,
And every soul must live to learn.